


Bedroom Life || Dramione

by olyviahrose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, DDLG, Dominant, F/M, Fluff, Lemon, Lemons, Submissive, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-08-08 18:45:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16434800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olyviahrose/pseuds/olyviahrose
Summary: After finding a journal of Hermione's detailing very graphic sexual fantasies, Draco Malfoy decides to fulfill them by making her his slave--just like she wrote about.





	1. Chapter 1

“Granger!” Draco Malfoy’s voice boomed across the Great Hall, drawing not only Hermione’s attention but the attention of just about every other person around them. Rolling her chocolate-brown eyes, she turned in her seat to glare at him as he stood up from his table across the hall. Holding a familiar, brown journal in his grasp, Draco held it up as he sauntered her way. Hermione’s heart dropped instantly at the sight of it. “You left this in potions class.”  
The usually-poised seventh-year stood up frantically, meeting him the rest of the distance, and stammering to thank him as she reached for the journal. Draco pulled it just out of her reach and leaned in for the briefest of seconds to whisper in her ear, a smirk toying on his lips.  
“Care to explain, little one?”  
Hermione froze, her heart dropping for the second time, and a blush rising to her freckled cheeks. Pulling away, Draco gave her a small wink and pushed the journal into her shaking hands.  
“I left a few notes in there for you, don’t worry.” He smiled, not in a hostile way, but as if he knew something that she didn’t. Unsure of whether she should be embarrassed, or angry, Hermione quickly turned and made her way back to the table where her friends sat dumbfounded at what had just happened.  
“Hermi-” Harry began but stopped when she shot a small, pleading look in his direction. She didn’t want to have to explain, and she prayed that the desperation in her eyes gave enough of a hint that he wouldn’t question her further.  
Raising his hands as if in defense, Harry went back to his meal. The rest of their friends followed suit, leaving the girl to herself as she quickly buried the journal in her messenger bag and snapped it closed. She briefly glanced over her shoulder across the hall to see if Draco was looking her way.  
He was. Intensely.  
She quickly turned away, the blush on her cheeks growing deeper. Burying her face in her arms, she let out a deep sigh of frustration.  
This was going to be interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

Some part of Hermione was truly convinced that if she simply avoided Malfoy, she could pretend that this whole situation was a dream, and continue on with her life as if he had never found the journal. Perhaps he’d be too embarrassed to press the matter further than he already had--although as she read through the scrawled notes in the margins of the pages, she doubted that would be the case. Her mind ran rampant with thoughts of what her classmates would say if they knew exactly what the journal contained. And knowing Draco Malfoy, she had no doubt that the Slytherin would use this to his advantage in any way possible.

“It’d be a shame if anyone found out, wouldn’t it, little one?” The first note alone was enough to make her heart drop. How could she have been so stupid as to bring the journal with her? She should have known it was only a matter of time before she forgot it. “Isn’t it a great turn of events that I found your dirty little secret, and not someone else? Professor Snape, perhaps?” His neat scrawl taunted her from the parchment pages, and she could almost hear the words drawling off of Draco’s tongue as if he were standing right beside her.

“Meet me in the second-floor girls’ lavatory after supper.” Hermione groaned inwardly to herself, burying her face in her hands as her cheeks burned. She didn’t doubt for the slightest of seconds that if she didn’t show up, Draco would find a way to make this situation much more humiliating than he was already planning on making it. How much had he read? Not a lot, she hoped. Throwing the book down on the stone ground before her, Hermione stood from the bench she had been sitting on in the courtyard and pulled her wand out of the sleeve of her robes. 

“Incendio!” She whispered. The binding of the book sparked, and promptly burst into flames. 

*

Hermione stood outside of the door to the second-floor girls' lavatory, her hands clasped firmly before her nervously. She hadn’t needed to create much of an excuse to leave the common room. Everybody was so distracted by their own things that they had hardly even noticed her disappearance.

Her fingers latched around the cold handle, and Hermione pushed the wide door open, stepping into the dim light of the lavatory. Shutting the entrance firmly behind herself, she pulled her sweater tighter around her form, attempting to shake the chill the restroom often gave. She paced amongst the stalls, peeking under them to make sure no one was in the restroom, though the chances were slim to none, even after the faculty had convinced Moaning Myrtle to relocate to an unused restroom in the dungeons. They had persuaded her (after much effort) that she’d be much less glum if she were to be around other ghosts like herself.

No one was in the restroom, she found, as she began to stand from her bent over stance after peeking beneath the last stall. Before she could fully-upright herself, a pair of hands grasped her hips firmly and she felt the heat of someone pressing themselves against her backside.

“Hello, little one.” Malfoy’s voice was cold, with no hint of emotion. “How are you on this fine evening?” Instantly, Hermione felt herself moisten. Hearing those words was heavenly, like a fantasy brought to life; however, now was not the time to succumb to her own desperate thoughts. She had an issue to deal with. Hermione quickly pulled herself away from his lap, straightening and smoothing out the pleats of her skirt as she turned to face the blonde.

“I’m fine, thank you very much. What do you want?” Hermione bit her tongue, her cheeks bright red and a cold sweat forming on her forehead. She crossed her arms over her chest tightly, her breasts plumping up as a result of the pressure. Draco’s eyes trailed to her chest, and he smirked lightly, crossing his own arms.

“I believe the questions is what do you want? Some of the things you wrote were rather vulgar,” Draco took a step towards her, then another, and another, effectively trapping her between himself and a stall door. Hermione’s breath hitched momentarily, and her face flushed as she looked away, focusing her gaze on the tiles below them.

“Especially,” Draco began, his fingers moving up to touch her neck briefly, “The part where I had my fingers grasped around your neck until you couldn’t breathe properly, while I pounded you mercilessly.” With every word his face inched closer, until his lips were just beside her ear, sending shivers throughout her small frame. “Remember that?”

Hermione nodded meekly, her face red-hot, her lips moist with wanton. “Yes, but um…”

“Um, what, little one?” he drawled. He reached his hands up to move her hair away from her neck, flicking his tongue out to lick it momentarily, then latching on with a forceful suck that made Hermione’s knees weak with desperation.

“I didn’t really mean any of it, I swear! Please don’t tell anyone!” Draco chuckled against the skin of her neck, pulling away and wrapping his fingers around it while sliding a knee up between Hermione’s legs, pressing it against her throbbing pussy under her skirt. Hermione gasped, throwing her head back against the stall door and moaning quietly, her eyes clenched shut tightly.

“What a slutty little pet,” Draco muttered, his eyes flashing with a hunger as he watched Hermione’s wanton moaning. “I wonder how your friends would feel if they knew about all the things you wrote in that journal of yours? How about the one where you described in detail how amazing it would feel for me to violate that tight little asshole between your perky cheeks?” He reached a hand beneath her skirt, grasping her ass tightly before giving it a rough slap. Hermione let out a sigh of euphoria at the sharp sting.  
She’d never imagined in all her life that her fantasies would come true, and she couldn’t even begin to reason with herself at that moment. The grabbing, the smacking, the feeling of his fingers tightening around her neck, his knee pressing against her pussy, all of it was too much to handle. All that separated them was a pair of thin tights and his pant leg. She had to admit, it felt nice.

“Bend over, Granger,” Draco’s voice had taken on a new, domineering tone. “I want that ass in the air, now.” 

“But-”

“I said now, slut.” Hermione’s face flushed. She slowly turned away from the wizard and bent over, her ass facing his lower-regions, completely exposed for him to assault as he pleased. Draco grasped her skirt and pushed it up, exposing her ass through the see-through tights she wore.

“No panties, little one?” He questioned. Hermione shook her head, whimpering in embarrassment. She’d never felt more exposed in her life, and she both loved and loathed it. “Good, another reason to fuck you nice and hard. If you want to act like a shameless slut, you’re going to feel like one too.” He slapped her ass, hard, and cupped her pussy, his palm pressing against her heat through her tights.

“From this point on, you’re my slave, understood? If I say jump you; ask how high; if I say do not cum, you ask for how long; if I say bend over, you ask how far. Understood?” Draco’s hands grasped her ass-cheeks, massaging them as he waited for her response.

“Yes!” Hermione gasped, her eyes shutting tightly as she struggled to maintain balance. A hand fell harshly on her ass-cheek once. Twice. Three times.

“You shall refer to me as ‘Sir’ from this point on. Do you understand, slut?” Hermione whimpered, her ass stinging, her pussy throbbing with wetness and need. Another slap. “I said, do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir!” She gasped, her hands grasping her ankles to steady herself.

“Good.” Draco grasped the fabric of her tights, that only thing separating him from that mouth-watering pussy, and tore until there was a gaping hole revealing Hermione’s dripping sex. “Such a wet cunt; I wonder how long it will take to get you right on the edge, little one?” Hermione whimpered once again, her legs shaking from excitement.

Draco trailed his pale fingers along the length of Hermione’s slit, her wetness coating his digits as he did so. Hermione groaned wantonly, stumbling forward and almost falling to the tile beneath her.

Draco pushed her to the ground the rest of the way, grasping her wrists and forcing them behind her back, holding them in place with one hand. His other hand dropped to his trousers, undoing them and letting his cock spring free. He dropped himself to the floor on top of her, resting his dick between her ass cheeks and grinding slowly as his free hand snaked its way to Hermione’s neck, grasping it tightly.

Hermione was panting feverishly, her mind racing with ideas of what he may do to her. The fantasies alone were almost enough to make her cum on the spot. Everything felt like a dream, there was no way this could truly be happening. Draco Malfoy would never touch a Mudblood, let alone fuck one. Everything felt so amazing though, it was hard not to give in to fantasy and believe it was real.

Hermione was so convinced that this was nothing but a dream, that she decided to take advantage of the realism of it while she could, gasping Draco’s name softly as he ground between her ass cheeks.

“Yes, little one?” He panted, his face close to her ear as he inquired.

“Let me suck your cock,” she whispered, her face flushed, her pussy throbbing. Draco chuckled, and sat up straight, slapping her ass harder than before, causing Hermione to yelp loudly.

“Wrong, slut. ‘Let me suck your cock, Sir,’ you meant to say, I believe.” Hermione turned onto her back, staring up at him desperately.

“Let me suck your cock, Sir,” she corrected herself, panting. Satisfied with the phrasing, Draco dropped himself to the floor, hovering his dick just above her face, precum dripping from the tip of his member.

“Suck, slave.” He didn’t give her much of a choice, as he forced himself into her mouth, much past the point she was capable of taking without difficulty. Stuffed inside of her throat all the way up to his ballsack, Draco watched in awe as the corner of Hermione’s eyes teared up and she squirmed beneath him in desperation. After a few moments, he pulled away, giving the witch a moment to catch her breath. She did so, then stared up at him, still just as wanton as before.

“More please, Sir,” she begged. Draco happily complied, burying himself to the hilt once again, taking pleasure in the way it felt when she gagged around his throbbing member. He pulled out for the briefest of moments, before stuffing himself inside of her mouth once again, giving her less of a break than before.

Draco pulled out and readjusted above her so he could face her pussy while he fucked her mouth deeply. Once he was sure he had comfortable control of everything, he buried his cock in her throat. This time he didn’t come up. He leaned his face down, biting Hermione’s swollen, exposed clit, then pulling it into his mouth and suckling on it roughly. 

Her hips bucked desperately, the lack of air, the taste of his cock, and the feeling on her clitoris almost too much to bear. Draco pulled away from her mouth, then began to thrust fast and deep as he teased the witch’s bud, his fingers reaching to slip inside of her dripping cunt as he did so. He hummed against her clit, taking pride in the way she desperately squirmed as he did so.

As soon as the squirming had almost stilled, and Draco began to feel Hermione’s body getting incredibly tense beneath him, he pulled away, his palms pressing her thighs roughly to the ground to prevent her from causing herself any sort of relieving friction as he let her fall back down from the very brink of orgasm.

The feeling of her moaning frustratedly against his cock was heaven. Draco slapped the witch’s pussy a few times roughly, then, using his hands to keep her legs spread, he began to roughly face-fuck her until his cock was twitching, and he came.

Hermione was squirming, her mouth filled with hot semen, her orgasm ruined, and still just as turned on as when she was first demanded to bend over.

“Swallow it, little one,” Draco demanded, his fingers burying themselves within the folds of Hermione’s pussy, knowing all too well that she had fallen too far from orgasm to finish from this alone. Just a little more torture for him to enjoy her suffering through.

Hermione swallowed his load dutifully, bucking her hips against his fingers desperately as she did so. Once Draco was satisfied that she had swallowed what she could, he removed his sopping wet fingers from her slit, wiped the moistness off of the witch’s pale thigh, and stood.

“On your knees, little one. You aren’t quite done yet, I’m still messy.” He grasped a fistful of Hermione’s hair, dragging her to her knees and holding his still-stiff cock in front of her face. “Clean me. With your tongue.” Hermione, flushed and still very much bothered, did so dutifully, licking his twitching cock and the area around it until every drop was clean. “Good girl, kitten.” Draco murmured. He pulled out his wand. “Lie down, on your back, little one.”

“Yes, Sir.” She sighed the words breathlessly, still exhausted from their playtime. Draco murmured a few unintelligible words, and in a moment, Hermione felt an excruciatingly delicious sensation on her bud, causing her to buck her hips desperately once again. Draco chuckled, and the sensation ended just as quickly as it had begun. “What did you just do?” Hermione questioned, her face flush, her legs squirming together desperately.

“I cursed you, in a way, kitten,” Draco smirked as he leaned down to grab her hands and pull her to her feet.

“I’ve given you a magical implant of sorts. So long as you have it, you cannot bring yourself pleasure, nor can anyone else. Only me.” Hermione’s jaw dropped in painful realization. “I have full control over this ‘invisible vibrator’ if you will. So long as it exists (which it will until I say otherwise) the only relief you will ever feel will occur when I activate it. That means I’m in full control of your orgasms (or lack thereof) whether you like it or not.”

“But-” The vibration stopped Hermione’s words short in their tracks, and she fell to her knees, desperately trying to ride out the very edge of an orgasm before the sensation was taken away. Unfortunately, the feeling was taken away all too soon, and she was left a wanton, pathetic mess on the tile.

 

“No buts, slave. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? According to that journal of yours anyways--total domination, by me. Here you have it. Enjoy, slut.” And just like that, Draco Malfoy zipped up his trousers, and left the room, leaving the Mudblood a hot-and-bothered, cum-soaked mess.


	3. Chapter 3

The magical implant had proved to be both a blessing and a curse for Hermione. While there had been no further contact between herself and Draco in the last week, she was made aware that he was undoubtedly still fantasizing about their time together. Every night before she fell asleep, the little implant on her clit would begin buzzing insistently, causing her body to rock with orgasm in a mere few minutes. However, as was already stated, the blessing it offered at the end of each night, also came with a darker side.

 

At random, the vibration would start only for a mere few seconds, just enough to draw Hermione’s attention to her throbbing pussy, leaving her hot and bothered before it stopped completely. This happened in the middle of the great hall during breakfast, as she was talking to her friends in the common room, and during her personal worst nightmare--in the middle of potions class.

 

Draco Malfoy loved watching from his seat as the heat rose to her cheeks, her jaw clenched and her eyes widened with shock at the sudden vibrations. He loved watching her quietly pant and struggle to maintain composure in the midst of a lecture, unable to stop the sensation on her own, only being able to endure it and hope it ended soon. He especially liked the small excuses she came up with when her close friends noticed she wasn’t looking well and would ask her what was wrong. The color that rose to her cheeks when this happened was something he craved to see--five-star entertainment at it’s finest. 

 

Sometimes, he’d leave the vibrations on for just a little longer than usual, just enough to bring her close to the edge, her thighs rubbing together desperately. Then the sensation would stop altogether.

 

It was a sick sort of pleasure, and he loved it.


End file.
